. . .
The soldier, meanwhile, was explaining his presence there. He belonged
to another division. There were many . . . many! They were advancing
rapidly, forming an extensive and solid wall from Verdun to Paris. His
general had sent him to maintain the contact with the next division, but
finding himself near the castle, he had wished to visit it. A family tie
was not a mere word. He still remembered the days that he had spent at
Villeblanche when the Hartrott family had paid a long visit to their
relatives in France. The officials now occupying the edifice had
detained him that he might lunch with them. One of them had casually
mentioned that the owner of the castle was somewhere about although
nobody knew exactly where. This had been a great surprise to Captain von
Hartrott who had tried to find him, regretting to see him taking refuge
in the Warden's quarters.
"You must leave this hut; you are my uncle," he said haughtily. "Return
to your castle where you belong. My comrades will be much pleased to
make your acquaintance; they are very distinguished men."
He very much regretted whatever the old gentleman might have suffered.
. . . He did not know exactly in what that suffering had consisted, but
surmised that the first moments of the invasion had been cruel ones for
him.
"But what else can you expect?" he repeated several times.
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